


Keep Falling Down

by WintersCurse



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Annabeth Chase Centric, F/M, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24196894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WintersCurse/pseuds/WintersCurse
Summary: There are some things Annabeth can't talk about but she will be ok
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Keep Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

> Yes the title is from Nothing Left To Say Now by Imagine Dragons. No I will not be apologising. No I haven't been watching the video of Viria's art + Nothing Left To Say Now on repeat for three hours what're you talking about

Annabeth couldn’t sleep.

Tucked into Percy’s side, with eyes wide open and golden curls falling into her face, her mind played memories on repeat. 

Percy’s open closet looked far too tall and human like, the curtains over his window flickered too much for her mind to rest. The books and clothes and photos scattered across the floor seemed to jump up at her- threatening, always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

She was being paranoid and she knew it. 

But there was fire burned into her eyelids, and pain seared into her heart. Echoes of doors slamming, and air screaming around her as she fell, and cruel laughs coming from everywhere, rang in her ears. 

She couldn’t stop herself from jumping as a hand ran through her hair. 

“I love you,” Percy whispered. 

His voice was hoarse- like he’d been shouting, or crying, or silent for too long. 

Turning around, she rested her head on his chest, her cheek brushing against the soft blue fabric. 

He smelled familiar and safe. Something she could no longer pin down and give the exact composition of, but felt like home. 

“Love you too.” 

As silence fell, the mocking laughs only got louder and louder until she couldn’t bear it. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Tartarus,” she said quietly. 

Annabeth wasn’t one for whispered words. If something is said, it should be meant and should be said loudly with pride. 

But Annabeth didn’t want to mean her words. She didn’t want to admit pain, to admit weakness. She’d gotten so far being strong and tough. 

How could she let that collapse now. 

How could she give in. 

She felt Percy shake his head more than saw it. 

“Me neither. Everything is so wrong, you know? I’m still not over Luke and the battle of Manhattan, and now this and everything’s too fast and too much.” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be over Luke,” she admitted. “Or Arachne, or Gaia, or-” 

“Tartarus,” Percy finished. 

She couldn’t reply. She couldn’t force the words out of her mouth, or even fully form them in her mind. 

There were some things she could talk about. She could talk about her step mother’s anger and her dad’s disgust (but not the blows that left marks on both her body and her soul). She could talk about Luke’s betrayal (but not the pain and loss that threatened to bring her to her knees whenever his name was mentioned). She could talk about the war against Gaia (but not the shame that accompanied her almost losing everything she’d worked so hard for). 

Tartarus came nowhere close to something she could talk about. 

Percy shrugged. “There’s not much point in staying in the dark if we’re not going to sleep.” 

“Cookies?” She asked hopefully. 

Percy’s laugh was grounding, a strong tie to the real world when the rest of the bonds were severed and her mind was threatening to fade away. 

“Cookies.” 

Taking his hand in hers, she pressed a kiss on his forehead. 

Together they walked out of Percy’s room and into the kitchen with hushed breaths and light footsteps. 

It was odd. Even after years at Camp and staying with Percy, the thought of sneaking out of her room at night made her feel like throwing up her heart, and her ears carefully listening for even the slightest sound. 

The lights flickered on and Annabeth found comfort in the familiarity of the Jackson’s kitchen. 

Pictures of Percy and Sally and Grover and Annabeth were stuck to the fridge like a kaleidoscope of happiness, and plates from dinner were still piled up in the sink. The bag of blue jelly beans was sitting on the kitchen bench half eaten. 

Percy took her hand as he stole yet another jelly bean. 

There was something hollow in his eyes and broken in his smile, and she knew hers was the same. 

But it was ok. 

Everything would be ok. 

They would be ok. 

They had to be.


End file.
